Eight Years Isn't Long Enough
by BrOkEnToYbOx
Summary: ... You left too soon, Totsuka.


_The cigarette bent, teeth grinding at the paper wrapped stick as rusty eyes watched the video, narrowing more and more with each scene. And then, in the blink of an eye, the laptop flew across the room, crashing into the wall. The now broken screen flickered briefly, a static effect enveloping the frozen frame of the video before it finally blinked out, turning a jet black. There was smoke rising from the machine too, accompanied by a sort of fizzing sound._

_Mikoto just glared at the machine through narrowed, rusty eyes, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. At his sides, his fingers furled in tight fists, the knuckles burning white from the strength and if he had had long, non-bitten nails, the man was sure that blood would be running from the flesh of his palms. _

_That damn fool – going and dying on everyone like that._

_Mikoto's fists unclenched and his arms fell to his sides limply, head bowing slightly and red bangs shadowing his eyes._

_Totsuka..._

* * *

_Eight years ago..._

"Hey! What brings you here, King?"

Mikoto glared, rusty red eyes narrowed as he stared at the bed ridden boy covered in stark white bandages, leg suspended in the air by a sling. Next to him, Izumo just craned his neck and looked over at Mikoto, a somewhat confused look on his face.

"King?" He echoed, but Mikoto ignored the implied question, instead keeping his gaze pinned on the hospitalized middle school boy before him.

"Who did this to you?" He asked, voice a dead monotone, and the blonde boy stared before leaning back against his pillow, also a pure white, and letting a small, happy smile pull at his lips. Mikoto just stayed quiet, not sure why exactly the child was smiling when his leg was broken, suspended in the air by a sling, one arm was broken and the top of his head was wrapped in bandages. The red-head was so concentrated on the boys face that he didn't even notice that Izumo had started to lecture (if it could be called a 'lecture') the kid.

"Look, kid..." The other blonde began, dragging the broken child's attention away from his 'King' and towards Izumo instead. "If you hang around with this guy, you'll end up like this again. You may think you'll be safe near someone strong, but it's the exact opposite."

"Ok, I'll be careful from now on."

Mikoto frowned when the boy just smiled again, eyes closing in his happiness. Why the hell was he so cheerful? He had just been told that there was a high chance of him being put in hospital again, for god's sake, and all he could do was smile and say 'I'll be careful'.

Slowly, Mikoto began to walk towards the end of the bed, where there was a space free from any body parts.

"Kid, let me say this again..."

Izumo's repeated advice was cut off when Mikoto's foot rose before slamming down against the bed, jolting everyone's attention to him and making the blonde haired child emit a strangled noise and lurch upwards.

"I asked who did this to you."

This time the boy looked down, eyes downcast and a sad lilt to his lips.

"Before I tell you, King..." He mumbled. "I have a huge favour to ask. Will you hear me out?"

A favour? Izumo and Mikoto both paused for a moment before the red-head nodded gruffly. The boys smile came back, sadder than before, and his eyes were still filled with a diluted sorrow. Mikoto just glared, face a mask of seriousness.

"My foot..." The boy mumbled again, voice still holding that down-beat tone. Then, suddenly he was grinning again, eyes once again closed. "It itches like hell! Could you scratch it for me?"

Izumo leant forward, a dumbfounded 'huh?' working its way from his throat. Was this kid serious? Did he even know who he was talking to? The boy giggled softly. Mikoto's eyebrow twitched once before he sighed, eyes closing briefly, and he stepped towards the bed once more, aware of Izumo's incredulous look and the injured boys 'Yes!'.

And that was it. In the space of three seconds Mikoto's hand had gone from above the boys cast bound foot and had slammed down on his head, forcing a pained yelp from the blonde. And then just as quick, the red-head had pulled his hand away, stuffed it in his pocket and walked towards the door, leaving the blonde murmuring a small 'ouch'.

All the while, Izumo was just watching, one hand instinctively reaching towards the now even more injured child and his gaze following Mikoto's retreating form. Slowly his gaze travelled back to the kid who was now occupied with nursing his throbbing skull.

"You're one reckless kid." He said, the blatant surprise showing in his slightly higher pitched voice. "Don't blame me if he kills you."

"Hey, don't sweat it..." The other blonde soothed, raising his head and smiling, eyes closed again, at Izumo. But this time the expression was more pained. "It'll all work out." A soft breath worked its way from the boy lips and he opened his eyes, tilting his head downwards ever so slightly. His next words were spoken in a softer tone, hints of admiration lining each breath. "I'm going to become the King's vassal."

"Huh?"

"That guy's going to become someone great." The blonde looked up into Izumo's surprised face. "He might become like a real King, don't you think?"

* * *

_Three years ago..._

The bell of the bar rang as Mikoto pulled open the door. Groaning, the the red head slumped down into the sofa, hands stuffed into his pockets and chains of his jeans clinking. His eyes closed in his tiredness and soft, small breaths entered the environment, accompanied by the small clacking of children's shoes.

"Is everything ok?" Izumo called in his usually bored voice from behind the bar counter as Anna climbed up next to Mikoto on the sofa.

"What do you mean?"

Izumo stared at the King for a while before closing his eyes in a sigh.

"He looks stressed out..." Izumo's words weren't addressed to anyone in particular as he opened his eyes again, gaze travelling back to the worn-out red-head on the couch. Mikoto lifted his hand in front on him, slowly curling it into a fist. Rust red eyes stared at the limb as memories of his burning power flooded back. Another fight. Yet again he had hurt people.

His fingers tightened, digging into his palm and the fist began to tremble. In a swift movement, he raised the body part and was ready to slam it down onto the thick wood coffee table, not caring if the furniture split into a million tiny fragments.

But he was interrupted.

"Tonight's dinner is Tom Yan Goong." Mikoto's gaze flickered over to the other sofa, where a face was poking out from underneath a rumpled white blanket.

"You're here?"

The younger blonde boy just smiled, eyes closing as they usually did when that expression took over his face.

"Of course." He corrected, voice somewhat croaky from his sleep. "This is where I take my afternoon nap." His eyes opened again, revealing those two chocolate brown orbs. "Thank you for your hard work."

Mikoto scoffed lightly.

"What work?" He mumbled. "It was just a lame scuffle."

The other boy was sitting now, blanket wrapped round himself in a sort of bundle.

"Mr. Kusanagi was complaining that you really didn't have to deal with them in person."

The only sound that came from Mikoto's mouth in reply was a bored 'che'.

"Why'd I have to become King anyway?" He was asking himself more than anything, but yet the blonde across from him still replied. He always did.

"I knew all along. You're different from other people."

"I seem to attract every Tom, Dick and Harry out there... What kind of King is that?"

"You say that..." Mikoto looked up, noticing the change in the blonde's voice and he saw that his usual smile was gone, his face serious. "But they're all important to you, aren't they?" Mikoto cast the boy a weary look, condescending the younger man's words. It was that moment that the blonde's smile reappeared on his face – like a reflex – and he drew his hand from the blanket and pointed to the space next to Mikoto. The red-head just stared for a moment before looking to his side, his crimson eyes meeting with the innocent violet orbs of Anna. He then looked away again, and back to his hand, releasing it from its fist and staring at his palm.

"One day I'll..." His vision's flashed with an image of red flames, dying down to reveal burnt, charred skin before his hand faded back to normal. Across from him, the boy had stood up, the blanket abandoned on the sofa.

"Hey, don't sweat it." He reassured. "It'll all work out."

"You've always been the carefree type." Mikoto frowned as the boy began to step closer, bending down a bit to be on eye level with the sitting man. He placed his hands on his hips, smile working back onto his face once again. There seemed to be an endless supply of them.

"There's nothing to be afraid of." He said, voice holding happy notes to it as he looked Mikoto dead in the eyes. "You're a King. Your powers are not meant for destruction." He raised a loosely held fist and gently fist bumped Mikoto's open palm. "They exist to protect. I guarantee that."

There was a small bout of silence after that, as the two just looked at each other.

"What's Tom Yam Goong?"

The blonde's smile dropped.

"You don't know?" He then leant backwards, pulling his fist back from Mikoto and spread his arms outwards in gestures as he began to explain. "It's a hot sour-soup. It's bright red and looks terribly spicy, but when you eat it, it has unexpectedly complex flavours."

"It's red?" Anna's cute voice piped up as she leant forward to look at the blonde man, who in turn tilted his head to glance at the petite white haired child. Mikoto did the same.

"It sure is! Anna, want to help me make it?"

Mikoto looked back to the other, albeit younger, man, one eyebrow cocked.

"You're going to cook?"

"I'm into cooking right now..." His head turned to face the Red King, fingers forming a peach sign and eyes, as usual, closing as a smile overcame his face.

Then he winked.

* * *

_Three months ago..._

There was a clatter as the skateboard fell to the floor, the blonde man stumbling slightly and staring after the mode of transport with a dumbfounded look on his usually cheerful face.

"Mr. Totsuka, you suck!" Yata commented once his laughing had subsided, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted away and downwards. Then he looked back up, arms changing to form elaborate gestures. "You did it all wrong. You need to go bam! Then flip."

"What?" Totsuka asked, bringing a hand up to his chin and smiling. "I can't understand what you're saying, Yata." Yata just smiled and stepped forwards, bending down to pick up his skateboard.

"Give me that."

Then, the nineteen year old performed the trick that Totsuka had previously attempted perfectly, causing said blonde to gape in awe at the chestnut haired males skill. Then they both flinched as an angered voice broke through their little show-off session.

"Cut it out, you guys!" Izumo growled from behind the bar, glass and cloth in hand. "Play with your skateboard outside!" Then the blonde bartender sighed and smiled as the two boys completely ignored him and continued.

"Okay, Mr. Totsuka, stomp on this end hard!"

"That guy's..." Mikoto mumbled from his seat at the bar-counter next to Anna and just in front of Izumo. "A strange dude."

"You got that right." Izumo agreed. "He can't fight, but he seems so comfortable in the midst of guys who do nothing but fight." The blonde then paused and leaned forward, resting his hands on the bar-top. "He's like a wild animal trainer."

A bubbling sound then drew both Mikoto and Izumo's attention to Anna, straw placed between her lips.

"Hey," Mikoto started. "Did you just laugh?"

Anna pulled her mouth away from her drink and shook her head 'no' causing Izumo to chuckle as the stoic girls actions. Then a crash sounded from the boys in the middle of the bar, followed again by Yata's voice and a chorus of laughs.

"You really suck at this!"

"Look who's talking, Yata!" Totsuka defended, childish anger displayed on the twenty-two year olds face. "You suck at sevens!"

"What?" Yata asked, raising a finger and pointing at Totsuka. "What about you, Mr. Totsuka? That's what happens when a guy who likes old dude hobbies like 'bonsai' wants to learn how to skateboard!"

Totsuka gave a short laugh and turned away, eyes closed and a prideful smile quirking his lips. His hand was held out near his face to further accentuate his prideful moment.

"I enjoy trying lots of different things." Then the blonde paused and a dawning look flowed across his face, his index finger moving outwards as he remembered something. "Which reminds me..." His posture shifts as he addresses the whole bar, filled only with the eight members of Homra. "I bought an old-style movie camera."

"Eh? Why not just film stuff with your phone?" Totsuka shook his head at Yata's statement and placed a finger on his chin.

"It just isn't the same." He murmured as he moved his hand from his chin, using it instead to create a makeshift lens, placing his circled fingers over his eyes and scanning round the room. "I've been shooting a lot of clips. I'll show them to you sometime."

Totsuka then froze in his mimicked panning as small clacking footsteps made their way towards him before stopping. Brown eyes locked with the innocent violet of Anna's, and she looked up at the man.

"Your song." She said, voice soft. "Aren't you going to sing?"

Totsuka smiled gently at the girl and closed his eyes. Then he went into another one of his elaborate speeches, placing one hand over his heart.

"Anna's such a good kid." He hummed, turning to face Yata, more outrageous gestures following. "Did you hear that? There's a young lady here whose heart has been captivated by one of my hobbies!"

"You're making too big of a deal out of it..."

Totsuka just ignored Yata's comment and grabbed his guitar, sitting down on one of the bar-stools with one leg crossed over the other. Anna stood next to him, looking at the blonde eagerly. And then his fingers strummed the first few strings and his melodious voice filled the air. And all around him, the usually violent members of Homra closed their eyes and remained silent, listening to the calming lyrics of Totsuka's song.

Even Mikoto smiled.

"_Those good old days/ when we fooled around and laughed together..."_

That guy was definitely a strange one...

* * *

_Izumo burst through the door, having heard the crash from the front of the bar. His glass obscured eyes caught sight of the broken laptop before his gaze travelled up to Mikoto. The blonde's expression saddened as he took in Homra's King's clenched jaw. That was as close to crying as Mikoto would get._

"_Mikoto..." Izumo mumbled._

"_Any news?" Izumo wasn't shocked at the cold tone in which Mikoto had replied, instead, the bartender just softened his gaze and looked at the floor sadly._

"_Nothing... We're still looking though..."_

_Mikoto nodded in reply before stuffing his hands in his pockets and brushing past Izumo, heading towards the exit of the bar._

"_I'm going out..."_

_When the red-head was gone, Izumo slumped against the doorframe, casting another withered look at the black screen of the laptop. There was no doubt about what Mikoto had been watching. _

_Totsuka..._

XxX

_One week ago..._

"Mr. Totsuka!"

Yata's voice cut through the air, seeming to be even louder than the cacophony of car engines in the city below. Maybe it was the fact that they were up high, above everything. Totsuka could hear the fast paced footsteps across the concrete flooring of the roof and could only imagine the panicked look on Yata's face. He couldn't see it though, his body was frozen – paralyzed with pain.

Suddenly, there was jolt in his bones as he felt arms scoop him from the floor and the pool of his own crimson blood, the limbs holding him trembling slightly. The man let his head loll to the side, anguished brown eyes locking onto the shocked and worried face of his friend.

"Mr. Tostuka! Hey, what happened?"

Totsuka smiled slightly despite the crippling pain rippling through every inch of his body and opened his eyes, dulling brown meeting with the worried orbs of Yata.

"The... Colourless... King..."

"King?" Yata echoed before his eyes widened and he leant into Totsuka. "Mr. Totsuka! Was it another King that did this to you?!"

"That's enough, Yata!" Izumo called from where he was standing, voice laced with sorrow. "Don't make him speak!"

Another shot of pain rippled through Totsuka's body as Yata placed a hand over the gun-shot wound on his stomach.

"You'll be alright, Mr. Totsuka." The nineteen year old tried to sooth, voice shaking. "We sent for a doctor. We'll have you fixed up in no time."

Totsuka just moved his head slightly to get a better view of his friend, a soft, pained chuckle coming from his lips. Blood dripped down the corners of his mouth and he slowly raised on crimson dyed hand up to Yata's face, placing his fingers on the boys cheek.

"Hey..." He croaked, voice strained. "Don't... Sweat it..." His hand began to slip. "It'll all work out..." The limb fell to his side limply, his fading strength not enough to hold it up anymore. "Sorry..."

And then his whole body went limp, head lulling to the side and eyes open, but not seeing anything, the once vibrant brown now a dull, murky mud like colour. Yata's eyes were wide as he gazed down at the body in his arms, grip loosening slightly in shock. Izumo was in a similar state, only his tinted glasses made his expression almost unreadable.

"Mr. Totsuka?" Yata asked, voice softest it's ever been. "Mr. Totsuka!" crystalline tears began to form in the corners of the boys eyes before spilling over his cheeks. "Hey, don't fall asleep!" Izumo began to the walk away from the scene, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Yata's voice was now a quibbling mess. "Don't do this to us! C'mon!" He hugged the cold boy to his chest, tears freely falling.

Izumo bent down and picked up the deceased mans fallen camera, hand punching in a familiar number. It rung twice, thrice, before finally the person on the other end pickedup_._

"Sorry, Mikoto..." Izumo murmured, voice laced with sorrow. "I have bad news..." He paused. "Always being so irresponsible and then dying on us like this...

Damn fool."

* * *

**Hi guys! A One-shot here! So I basically put all of the scenes from episode six that contained Totsuka (WHY DID YOU DIE?!) into a story of sorts, adding a couple of my own scenes in there too. Hope you like it! This was kind of my way of climbing over the mountain of tissues left over from all the tears (Seriously, I hated and loved that episode so much it's not even funny), yet I'm still crippled with the loss of Totsuka. If there's going to be more stuff like this, I'm seriously not sure I'm emotionally ready to watch the rest of the series...**

**K doesn't belong to me. If it did, Totsuka would still be alive. All the quotes used in this (So basically all of the speech) belongs to it's rightful owner(s).  
**


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